


It's Us That Made This Mess

by AluraEmbrey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-19
Updated: 2011-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AluraEmbrey/pseuds/AluraEmbrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Life Lesson # 51: Never let Blaise Zabini take part in any planning or organizing. It will, ultimately, blow up in everyone's face. However, a good Malfoy can always make the most of the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Us That Made This Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Written for rags_and_riches exchange. My prompts were: Diagon Alley/Erecto/Quaffle. Also, thanks to my friend mrsthedke for being my awesometastic beta of win. As well as thanks to my friend asoaringravyn for her joke that I just couldn't help but make real, well, mostly real. It got close.

It wasn't often that one saw Draco Malfoy in the middle of Diagon Alley. Despite the initial shunning of the family in the post-war world, a Malfoy is still a Malfoy. They will always be on top. It's simply fact and human nature. (Of course it didn't hurt that Potter had vouched for him, saying that he had been an unknowing asset during the war, and that Narcissa had helped to save Potter's life from the Dark Lord. But that is neither here nor there.) So Draco doesn't shop for himself, he has people to shop for him and take care of all the minute details of the plans he makes. However, sometimes you just can't trust someone else to do as good a job as you.

You see, it's nearly June yet again and that means just one thing: it's time for the Annual Malfoy Holdings-Winbolt Industries Company Picnic. Why have a yearly picnic with your greatest competition in the industry? Simple. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. There is no better way to scope out the competition then when they are all sweaty and tired from food, sun, and games. His father had come up with the idea when he was a child and the tradition had remained ever since. This year would mark the twentieth anniversary, a major date, and Draco himself was entirely in-charge of planning.

So that's why he can be found walking around Diagon Alley, aimlessly wading through the other patrons of the magical shopping area. He wasn't buying anything in particular today. No, he was looking for inspiration. Since it was such a big number anniversary for the picnic, they wanted to have a theme, a great theme, something to tell the children about. (Which was stupid. The children would be there; it was a family event.)

Except Draco had no ideas. Usually the picnic just consisted of food prepared by whichever caterer they selected that year, sack races, some pin-the-tail-on-the-dragon for the younger kids, a wizards chess tournament, and some other miscellaneous games. The point was for the adults to schmooze, drink, and manipulate, not to actually have much fun.

“Mummy, Mummy! Can I have the new Harpies poster please? It's got Ginny Weasley on it, Mummy and you know she's my favourite!”

Like a reluctant moth to a flame, Draco's head snapped to the side at the all-too-familiar name. Everywhere you went you heard about a Weasley these days. They were so famous, so successful, so brave, and so damn plentiful that you couldn't get away from them. Even seven years later their name was always popping up in the papers, usually tacked onto Potter's for something or other. But there was no name you heard more than that of the youngest.

Draco couldn't help the sneer that made its way on his face as he looked at the latest poster of the lead Holyhead Harpies Chaser. But was it really right to call her a Chaser only? As fans, even his own best friend, loved to rave, she was so versatile! <i>Did you see her catch that snitch right from under Milborrow's nose in the match against the Kestrels last year? Or the way she pummelled Lopez as a Beater against Spain two seasons again? She could play anything!

She was everyone's favourite.

Set to become the next captain when Elizabeth Melark retired next year, as she's rumoured to. Didn't you know?

She's great, she's awesome. Weasley is the best!</i>

The light blond eyebrow above his left eye began to twitch as he listened to the constant chatter of the people around the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Oh Sweet Salazar, didn't these people ever shut up about the Weasleys? Honestly, she wasn't that great of a player. He'd seen a Harpies game before, and sure she looked like she was having fun up there, not to mention was she wicked fast with pinpoint turns, but she wasn't that great. There were better players. Heck, he could probably be a better Chaser than her and he hadn't played a real game of Quidditch since school.

Quidditch.

Smirking now, Draco pulled out his wand and spun on the spot. A half a moment later he showed up in his private office at that Malfoy Holdings, Inc. headquarters. Soon he would call Blaise into his office, telling the story of his day and the theme idea it had given him. He'd smile triumphantly at his own brilliance and lap up the praise that his best friend would give him.

What Draco wouldn't notice, however, is the smirk on Blaise's own face when he left the room to do his own part in the planning.

\--------

The end of May had come and gone, bringing the heat of June in England with it to smack them awake. His birthday had also passed relatively uneventfully as he was working hard to plan this event, making sure that everything was perfectly in place. It had been hard work, especially on top of doing his usual workload for the company, but in the end, he felt like it was worth it. The pride in his father's eyes, the envy on the faces of their sister company, it was lovely.

And there was more yet to come.

Draco smiled politely at one of his counterparts from Winbolt, a pretty blonde with long legs and deep green eyes. Hmm, he might have to get to know her better later. It seemed like it was something that could be very beneficial to both parties involved. Still though, he did not stop in his walking. No, the young man was on a mission to find Blaise because he had something to ask him and it was important.

Five minutes later he found the dark-skinned Slytherin resting on a table with a shorter blonde woman standing next to him. Draco paid her little mind before rounding on his friend. “Where is this 'special guest Referee' of yours, Blaise? The match is set to start soon.”

“Don't get your knickers in a twist. I wouldn't fail you, now would I?” Blaise said, giving his best Charm Smile. It had no effect on Draco though, who just glared at him. “Geeze, fine. She'll be here any minute now. Isn't that right, Luna?”

Draco turned his head to the woman that Blaise referenced and was semi-shocked to see Loony Lovegood at his company picnic. If she noticed his surprise, it didn't register on her facial features at all. “Yes. Any minute now. She had to have brunch with the family first, but she'll be along.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to them talk. She? Who the bloody hell was it that was coming here today? Blaise had planned and arranged for this, refusing to tell even Draco who he had lined up to Referee their Quidditch match. So Draco had been forced to play up the secrecy and intrigue card to get the two companies excited. Telling them that their Referee was a world famous Quidditch All-Star and that was it; no one had told him, though, that it was a woman.

Sighing internally, Draco pulled his short-sleeved shirt away from where it was clinging to his skin due to sweat. Even he, who prided himself on always being put together, couldn't stop his body from reacting to the heat. He had tried to dress to accommodate it, though, forgoing full robes for shorts and a shirt. But in the end, he was sweating, hair hanging limp on his head, still longer than his mother liked, but ultimately dashing when it got just barely in the way of his eyes. Or so he'd been told.

Looking between Lovegood and Blaise again, he hoped one of them would give him a more precise time for this woman arriving. The match was to start in less than fifteen minutes and they really needed to set up. In fact, his father was set to make a reminder announcement about the match in a few minutes, and then the pre-formed teams from each company would be meeting up to broom up. But if this Referee didn't show, it'd all be for naught. Draco would be a laughing stock to both companies, his father would be disappointed, his mother condescendingly understanding and his pride would...

“Ah, there she is.”

Draco felt some tension leave his muscles at Blaise's words, turning around to see who this person was, finally. The first thing he noticed was the attack of red.

“Hello, Malfoy. Long time no see.”

It was the Weaslette. The lead Chaser in the league. The girl that had once cast a truly horrid curse on him when he had been young and stupid. The future Mrs. Potter, if the papers had anything to say about it. The girl that looked a little too good holding a broom, in her tight tank top and cropped shorts with see through leggings.

“Weasley,” he finally said, because school was a long time ago and Draco wasn't that dumb little confused boy any more. There wasn't a war going on, no sides to pick or monumental mistakes to make. Sure there would always been the irritation that came with hearing the family name, like remembering a bad rash, but in the end they were just two people with pasts, presents, and futures. Besides, she was doing the company a favour and having her here would look excellent to both the Winbolt employees and his own.

Ok, so fine, maybe he was shocked to see her and not exactly happy about it at all because Weasleys are inherently annoying, if Potter's best mate is any indication. However, Blaise had made a good choice and Draco knew he was going to owe the other Slytherin. This was good for him overall and Malfoys like things that are good for them. “Thank you for today, Weasley.”

Her eyebrow shot up in what he imagined was a bit of shock. He expected her to make a rude comment, just as she expected him to, but apparently they were both full of surprises. She just smirked a little and shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. Instead, her eyes moved past him to where the other two were sitting at the table.

“Hey, Luna. Blaise.”

First name basis with Zabini? Draco turned around to see his friend smirking at him a bit, eyes alight with what the blond knew was inevitable trouble.

“Hello Ginny,” Blaise said, his voice velvet and smooth with familiarity. “Draco here thought you wouldn't show up today.”

Draco sent Blaise a warning glare at the words before turning to see Weasley looking at him with her eyebrow raised again. She seemed do that a lot, speaking with her eyebrows. It was like you could hold an entire conversation with them.

“Well, it's getting very close to match time and I had no idea who Blaise had arranged to Referee today.”

Weasley had the good nature to look down a bit at his words. But that didn't last long. Her head lifted back up and she looked him in the eye again. “Sorry about that. Mum wouldn't let me out of brunch. And brunch at the Burrow is always an event unto itself, even without recent events.”

She looked down again, shutting up quickly as she realized she might be speaking a bit too freely. The urge to ask her to continue was strong, but Draco beat it down. They may not be teenagers on the opposites ends of a House rivalry, but that didn't mean he wanted to know all about her life. It was just natural curiosity that made him want to know, but we all know what happened to Curious Claudius. Every kid knew that story from a young age; talk about a scare tactic.

“Attention Ladies and Gentleman.”

The sound of his father's voice pulled his mind out of his wanderings. Oh crap. That meant there's just ten minutes till the match. He and Weasley needed to get to the tent to meet up now. Not paying mind to his father's words, he grabbed the red head's wrist and pulled her along. His longer legs struck up a pace that caused her to be jerked a long for a moment, but he didn't care. Nor did he care about her protests. They were on a tight schedule here.

They got to the tent just as his father finished speaking. Inside several people were already opening trunks and pulling out equipment. They stopped though, when the flaps of the tent were forced violently open to reveal the man and woman. There was a moment of staring, that awkward moment where everyone just kind of looked at the other and no one was sure why they were staring, but they were and for some reason it wasn't ending.

“I can walk on my own, you know,” Weasley said finally, pulling her wrist out of his grip and taking a step to the side. The staring ended, but Draco looked down at his own hand oddly.

“Ah, Draco, there you are. With...” The surprise was evident on the older man's face, even for someone that didn't know him well. “Weasley.”

The look on the other man's face made Draco stand up a bit straighter, feeling the need to defend himself for some reason. “Yes, Father. Ginny Weasley is our guest Referee today. I think she fulfils the qualification of being a world famous Quidditch All-Star, don't you? She is the number one Chaser in the British League.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see the surprise on the woman's face, but she masked it quickly. Looking again at his father, he saw the man simply nod his head. “Of course. I'm sure she'll be well received. Now Draco, if you'd like to give the teams the final details, I'll head to the commentator's box to prepare.”

With a final nod between the two men, the elder Malfoy left the tent. By now the last of the two teams had arrived, a general buzz of excitement and confusion evident on their faces. Standing up a bit straighter, Draco cleared his throat pointedly to get their attention. It worked, of course; no one ignored a Malfoy. “As you all know, we'll be playing our first ever picnic Quidditch match today. The teams were pre-formed, with the positions being selected from amongst yourselves and two substitutes per team allowed. We'll be heading to the field in just a moment, but let me introduce our Referee for today: Chaser Ginny Weasley of the Holyhead Harpies.”

The buzz that broke out when they finally realized who it was standing next to him and what she would be doing was intense.

“Oh my Merlin, THE Ginny Weasley?”

“No way, no way, mate. He didn't say that, did he?”

“Ooo! I wonder if I could get autograph.”

“Forget her autograph, I wonder if I can get her knickers.”

Looking at the shorter woman revealed that she as not fazed by the chatter. Even if some of it was a bit vulgar, clearly she must be used to it by now. Still, they had a game to play and their noise was starting to give him a headache. He cleared his throat again to get their attention and the buzzing lowered to a dull mummer. That was a bit better.

“We'll be going out in just a minute. My father will call for each team and then announce our Referee. After that, play will begin.” That was the last bit he had for them, but he turned to focus on Weasley now. “Do you have anything you need to tell them?”

The woman just shook her head, the red ponytail swaying as she did. “Not anything in particular. All standard Quidditch rules will apply and I expect fair play. Other than that, have fun.”

A cheer broke out over the crowd. Clearly they were excited about playing with a famous person amongst them. Weasley looked at him again, her brow saying 'well, aren't they a rowdy bunch?' He nodded in agreement before tuning his ears instead to the again amplified voice of his father. The players lined up by team, running out onto the field as they were called. Cheers broke out from the raised stands they had erected for today.

Turning to Weasley again, he noticed that she was chewing on her lip a bit and her eyes were darting back and forth across the tent. Was she... nervous? Draco let out a little chuckle at the thought. But he didn't have long to last as her small hand suddenly collided with his arm. He looked at her startled, because she... well she had punched him!

“You hit me!”

“You laughed at me.”

“Only,” he said, turning to face her fully, glaring down his height to look her in the eye, “because you're acting like you're nervous about this game. It's hardly going to be like playing in a professional match.”

Her brow rose again, as if to say 'Really, wow! Never thought of that!' Her mouth didn't say any of that though. Instead she just rolled her eyes at him and gripped her broom a little tighter. “So, I just head out when your dad says my name?”

“After the pre-game talk, yes. Well, we go out together. We'll both carry the crate, and as captain of the Malfoy team, I go join them.”

“Captain, eh?” she said, eyeing him up and down, her lips quirked up as if the idea of him being captain was funny. He stood up a bit straighter unconsciously. Still, he gestured unceremoniously to the crate on the other side of the tent. Draco followed as she made her way over to it and opened it up with a flick of her wrist.

“What?” He asked finally, watching her squat (not looking at her ass, honest) in front of the crate, staring at the various balls while his father's voice droned on in the background.

“Oh nothing.” she said as if it was anything but, her voice clearly going for faux-innocent. Her tan hands hovered over the Quaffle threateningly. “I was just wondering if I should do some test spells on these. Gotta make sure you aren't doing anything dirty just to win.”

Draco snorted, no matter how undignified it was. “Cheating really isn't my thing, Weasley. Believe it or not.” When she snorted in reply herself, he reached into the crate himself to take out the Quaffle, but Weasley had reached for it at just the same time. It was then that a familiar pull behind his navel started tugging. Grey eyes met brown for a moment of shock and fear before the world became swirls.

Seconds later, the world righted itself again, except it was suddenly very, very different. What had once been the dragging heat of a mid-summer day was now a blistering, biting cold. Draco looked around himself where he was laying on the ground. No, laying in the snow, the really, really cold snow. He got up to scramble to his feet just as a moan came from next to him.

When he looked over he saw Ginny Weasley laying on her stomach, body pushed up at an odd angle. Draco crawled a bit closer to her and saw that she had somehow managed to land on the Quaffle. Shaking his head a bit, he gave the girl a gentle push off the offending ball. Except she didn't move after that. Draco moved a little closer to her and was happy to see that she was still breathing. But her eyes were closed and she wasn't moaning any more.

Draco frowned. Had she hit her head or something? He hoped she wasn't seriously injured because he was shite with medical spells. Looking away from her, the young man finally got to his feet and looked around his surroundings. It was white. Completely white and bloody freaking cold. In his moment of worry for Weasley he had forgotten about chill settling into his bones, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it. It was like someone had taken a batch of firewhiskey and poured it on him, that's how much it seemed to be burning into his skin. Except it was a cold burning, like he was freezing.

A couple chills ran up and down his body before he turned back around to the girl and ball still lying on the ground. Were his eyes playing tricks on him or was she looking a bit blue? Grumbling under his breath, Draco squatted down to be level with her again. He could see where goosebumps were breaking out all over her skin. His lips lowered into a frown. It wouldn't be good if she died while with him, that was for certain. Azkaban really wasn't the place for someone as fair as him, to be honest. And he had too many plans for his future.

Ignoring the part of his brain that demanded answers he wasn't likely to get from the snow, he focused instead on the immediate. Namely getting warm. His hands were shaking as they reached into his pockets for his wand, but nevertheless he had it out and was looking around for something to burn. Sure he could just make a fire, but without it having fuel, it'd die really quickly. Except the only thing they had was a Quaffle and her broom.

It would be criminal to burn a brand new Firebolt 200.

The Quaffle it was. He frowned at it a moment, as if looking at it hard enough would make it somehow decide to spill its secrets. It didn't though, so he was no closer to understanding how the ball had become a Portkey and why they were in the middle of nowhere and nothing snowville. So it was with a little spite at it for the ball not talking that Draco cast a quick _Incendio_.

Instantly he felt warmer. He rubbed his hands in front of the fire, a bit of feeling coming back to them quick enough. Excellent. Turning around, he looked at the girl still unconscious behind him. She still hadn't woken up and he had no idea why. The frown on his face got deeper. Honestly, what the hell sort of world was this that he was suddenly Portkeyed with the youngest Weasley into a snowfield, and left to tend to her unconscious body? It was like something out of one of those cheesy romance novels his mother liked to pretend she didn't read.

Honestly, she read about one a week. Who was she kidding?

Draco gave his wand another wave, conjuring a blanket. It was a large one, thick and plush, and hopefully enough that it would help keep them warm. He sat part of it on the ground so he wouldn't have to sit in snow before sighing, because there was no one around to tell him not to, and scooping the Weasley girl into his arms. He deposited her on this lap, thinking that there were so many better ways to have a girl on your lap. Weasley or no. Now wasn't the time for that though, as he needed to focus on keeping them warm and alive. As such, he just pulled the blanket up around them both, tucking them in as best he could to keep their body heat in.

Right now one would probably be wondering why he hadn't just Apparated them both home. Well for one, have you ever tried to side-along an unconscious person? No? Didn't think so, cause it's not easy. Not to mention, he had no idea where they where. Clearly it wasn't England, that's for sure. Nor was it anywhere on the isles. Cross-continental Apparation is not an easy feat on the best of days, impossible most others. Let alone trying to bring someone else along.

Overall, it was best not to risk it. Besides, soon people would realize that the two of them were missing and they'd start looking. Someone would trace the residual magic of the Portkey and use it to triangulate their location. Surely.

Right?

The feel of the wind on his neck made Draco shiver again, his body naturally going towards the sources of heat he had: the fire and Weasley. He rested his head on the top of hers, thinking that he just needed a moment to close his eyes before he came up with a better solution and some answers.

“Malfoy. Why am I in your lap, wrapped in a blanket, in the snow?”

Draco awoke with a start, his body jumping slightly, causing Ginny to jump along with him.

“Oi, watch it!”

“Well, sorry Weasley. But you did wake me up without warning.” He told her, frowning at her where she sat still in his lap.

She lifted her nose to him, clearly not going to give an inch. Honestly, she should be grateful, thanking him on bended knee for keeping her warm. He could have just left her to die as he kept himself comfortable. And honestly, she was acting like being on his lap was a bad thing. There were woman that would love to be in her position. Snow or no.

“Where are we?” she finally said, looking around them as if a sign would suddenly appear.

“No clue. This is where the Portkey dropped us. I just built a fire and conjured a blanket so neither of us would die.”

Instead of thanking him, like she should have, she instead turned to look into the fire. They both fell silent then, not having much to say. It would hardly be normal for either of them to start having a heart-to-heart. Besides, it wasn't like either of them would die. Surely his father was tracking them down right now. His only heir missing? No way Lucius Malfoy would stand for that. The best of the best would be called to track them, the picnic forgotten quickly.

Besides, she's Ginny Weasley. Soon as someone mentioned she was missing and there would be Potter and the Weasel leading the charge to recover her. He could just see it now: Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, all working together to find the pair of them. The idea was laughable. So much so that he couldn't help a little chuckled from escaping him.

Weasley turned her head to him, her eyebrow raised again. This time it was asking what he found so funny.

“I just imagined my father working with Weasel and Potter to try and find the two of us. Like knights in shining armour, that hate each other.”

Weasley just snorted and mumbled in reply.

“What was that?” he asked, looking at her again.

She turned to looking him fully in the eyes, her brown ones oddly defensive. “I said: 'More like just Ron.' as I doubt Harry cares much about me right now. For that matter, Ron might not care either.”

This time it was Draco's eyebrows that rose. Apparently his own brow was very verbal as well as she sighed and kept right on speaking. “I broke up with Harry a couple weeks ago. That's why I was late coming to the picnic. Harry has a standing invitation to brunch at the Burrow which made for a really fun event. Trust me.”

Draco couldn't help but feel a bit awkward by the end of her little outburst. Sure there had been that initial prickle of happiness at hearing that Potter had been dumped, but overall it was just a bit awkward. He hardly spent all his time trying to know the details of his school nemesis’s love life, even if it was printed in the papers fairly regularly. Yet here he was with first hand news of something the Prophet and Witch Weekly hadn't pick up on yet. Potter and the girl Weasley weren't even dating any more.

Well, at least he didn't have to worry about the idiot trying to exact revenge upon Weasley honour after they were found, or something equally as Gryffindor and stupid.

“Sorry, to uh, hear that,” he finally said, doing his best to try not and sound as awkward as he felt.

The woman was silent for a moment before she started to shake. He looked at her worriedly for a second before he realized that she wasn't shaking because she as having some sort of fit due to head trauma. No, she was just trying to suppress her laughing. What the hell? He was trying to actually be nice here! Who was she to laugh at him?

“Sorry,” she said between giggles. “Sorry, I really am. I'm not laughing at you. I'm just laughing at life. Who would have thought that the first person to not immediately hate me for dumping the Wizarding World's saviour would be Draco Malfoy. Even my own family is a bit resentful. Ron was set on he and Harry being official brothers, even if only in law. And my mother, well she's been planning the wedding in her head for years.”

Oddly enough, Draco found himself actually sympathizing with her. His mother had not been subtle about her wanting him to marry Astoria Greengrass. The young man was pretty sure that Narcissa had portions of their futures planned out as well. Possibly down to him naming his child after a constellation as well. Soon, Draco found himself laughing with her; the two of them chuckling at the absurdity and randomness that was their lives. Because if you had told either of them years ago in school, or heck, even a week ago, that they would be sitting in the middle of snow, bundled together and laughing, they'd have you checked into St. Mungo's.

Once the laughter died down, Weasley slowly brought her head out from where it was buried in his shoulder. He could feel that the spot was now a bit wet from the tears her laughter had produced. It was hardly productive to them trying to stay warm, but Draco found he was hardly upset.

“So, you really have no idea how we got here?”

“None at all.” Draco looked at her for a moment, expecting her to say something more, but she didn't. Instead she just frowned at nothing. “You're not going to accuse me of turning the Quaffle into a Portkey?”

The look she gave him clearly told him she thought he was quite stupid. “No. You'd hardly be stupid enough to touch the Portkey and get yourself trapped here as well. Besides, what good would it do you to try to transport me here?”

Draco nodded in agreement to that. It wouldn't do him any good at all. Not to mention that he hadn't even known that it was she who would be Refereeing until about fifteen minutes before. But someone had to know that, as the Referee, she'd be the first person to touch the Quaffle. Blaise, however, was the only one that knew that she was Refereeing, right?

“Weasley, did an--”

“Ginny. I'm sitting on your lap, huddled under a blanket. You can call me Ginny, I'm pretty sure we've reached that point.”

Draco gave her a tiny shake of his head, a smirk fighting its way onto his face. “Well then, <i>Ginny</i>, did anyone other than Blaise know you would be our Referee?” 

“Well, Luna knew. They're dating, and he knows me through her. So yeah, she knew. And I would have assumed you knew too, but I guess that's not true.” She said slowly, stumbling to catch up with why he was asking this. “So I guess anyone Blaise told would have known. Why?” 

The young man felt his eyes narrow a bit at the air. Blaise must have done this. Why, he couldn't even begin to fathom, but yes, he must have done this. “Blaise must have done this. He's the only one that knew, wouldn't even tell Father or myself.”

“Why?” 

“No clue. I've known him most of my life and I still don't get how his mind works.” 

“Great. Just what I wanted to hear.” Ginny mumbled to herself. They fell silent for a moment, until he felt her wiggling in his lap a bit. She needed to stop that. It wasn't all together an unpleasant feeling, but more it was a bit too pleasant. Hot girl, lap, yeah, simple conclusion to draw. But one he didn't need to be drawing at just this moment. 

“Stop that will you,” Draco hissed at her. 

“Well sorry, but I'm kind of cold, and my legs are starting to go numb. I need to be able to walk around.” 

“Feel free to get up and walk around,” Draco said to her, his voice dripping with attitude. “But I'm pretty sure that won't solve the problem of you being cold.” 

She glared at him again before she started moving even more. Honestly, she <i>really</i> needed to stop that or so help him, he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. There is only so much a wizard can take. Really, he wasn't made of restraint. But in the end all she did was pull her wand out of her pocket. How that fit in there he could only say was magic, because her shorts certainly weren't as long as her wand. No way.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she poked her hand out of their blanket cocoon. 

“We'd be more comfortable if we had more room, right?” she asked him, slowly. When he nodded in reply, she finally continued. “Well then I'm going to give us more room. <i>Erecto!</i>”

A shot of light went from the end of her wand to the snow. But nothing happened aside from some snow being displaced. Draco turned away from the snow to see her frowning. “What were you trying to do?”

“Make an igloo.” she answered simply, as if that were totally normal. 

Make an igloo! It took a moment before he was actually capable of responding to her. “I'm pretty sure that spell isn't for igloo-making.”

She glared at him, upturning her nose again and exposing her neck nicely. “Well how was I supposed to know? I've never exactly made an igloo before. At least I'm doing something.”

“Hey! I made the fire and got the blanket. I did something!” 

Turning in his lap a bit to get a better view of his face, she glared even harder. “Have you sent someone a message telling them where we are?”

“And how,” Draco asked, leaning his face close to hers, “do you expect I do that? I don't know where we are, to begin with, and I certainly don't have an owl in my back pocket.” Honestly, did she really just ask him that? Because she was going from being humorous to not making any sense at all. Women, honestly. 

Before he could fully finish that thought, soft lips were pressed against his. And well, he's a bloke. With a hot girl on his lap, kissing. Of course he kissed back. It's a natural reaction. His arms lifted up from where they are sitting limply to clutch instead at her skin that felt surprisingly warm in the cold. His right hand rested comfortably on her right calf, as his left clutched at her waist when her tongue slipped into his mouth.

There's a part of his brain that told him that kissing Ginny Weasley isn't a good idea. Except that part of his brain really needed to shut the bloody hell up cause this was pretty fantastic. Who knew she'd be such a good kisser? And why had she been wasting this talent on Potter for such a long time? Most girls he went out with seemed content to just be there, letting him lead and do all the work as if they were too fragile to kiss back or apply any pressure. Not Ginny though. She's pushed back with all her might, her teeth occasionally scraped along his bottom lip as her tongue got to know the inside of his mouth very well. Her hands are tangles in his hair, and if they're cold from being outside the blankets, she's not complaining, just pushing a little further into his lap.

Except his brain still hadn't fully quieted down. That, coupled with his growing need to breath caused him to pull back from the kiss. He rested his forehead on hers and can't help but look down at her chest that's trying to catch its breath. “Why are you kissing me?”

(He'll deny to the day that he dies that his voice came out breathy or a bit high pitched. But if his did, then so did hers.)

“I dunno. Maybe it's because I haven't gotten laid in months. Maybe it's because you're here. But does it really matter either way? We're both adults right?” 

At her question Draco can't help but have smirked, he pulled her all the way onto his lap so her arse was right over his crotch. The wide-eyed look she gives him made him smirk even more. “Definitely adult.”

After that he's not quite sure who kissed who, but they certainly kidded again, that's for damned sure. And Ginny had also managed to wiggle around so she' was no long draped across his lap, but instead crouched over him, pelvis to pelvis. A muffled groan goes from his lips to hers the first time she grinds down onto him. He swore that the heat of her core is radiating through their clothes and straight to his cock.

Draco untangled his hands from where they'd managed to wind their way through her hair, and instead put them on her hips. He pushed down, not too gently, but not really caring about being a gentleman. They were making out and grinding in the middle of snow and covered in a blanket. Not exactly a normal social setting.

This time it was Ginny's turn to moan as their sexes touched. Her body worked double to grind down on his. He pulled his mouth away from hers, which caused her to whine a bit. But he just smirked at her for a moment before he attached himself to her neck and then moaned again, clearly not too upset about not still kissing him. His lips mapped the skin on her neck, first left then right, back and forth, until he reached beneath her collarbones and where the skin began to turn to breasts. Draco looked up then, to see a rather erotic sight.

Ginny had her head thrown back, her mouth slightly opened and perhaps she was panting just a bit. She looked like some sort of red-headed sex fiend and it was hot, so hot. His pants tightened even more just looking at her all needy and wanting, but still demanded more because her fingers were practically digging into his scalp. Which hurt a bit, but compared to everything else, that was pretty damned all right.

Soon enough his mouth was on the tops of her breasts, kissing and licking as little shivers ran up and down Ginny's spine. But she's no helpless damsel here or a doll just being played with, she's got her own moves going on. Or so the tugging at his shirt said. One hand still pushed him into her bosom, while the other desperately tried to un-tuck his shirt. Before he knew it, her hand was on his stomach and he could feel the muscles there twitch and shake at the touch.

She was so hot, so warm. He just couldn't pull away from that, not even if he wanted to. And he certainly didn't want to. So he just put a hand on her ass and pushed her down harder on top of him as his pants got tighter and tighter. Honestly, hadn't he purposefully worn loose clothes today too? How had his shorts gotten so tight?

He kissed his way back up her throat, headed back towards her mouth when suddenly he couldn't help but rut up. Somehow she got her hand down his shorts (Guess they were loose afterall.) and she palmed him through his underwear. His thoughts of kissing her again go out the window as her hand moved against him, the heat in his pants became almost unbearably amazing.

“Merlin, you're good at this.” He couldn't help but say between clenched teeth because she wasn't even touching him full on and he was pretty sure he was going to spill his load soon like a teenager. 

“Names Ginny, not Merlin” Her breath whispered in his ear. He would have frowned at her and come up with a witty retort if he hadn't so distracted. But he did pull her down for another kiss, to shut her up from saying anything more. While her fingers were busy on him, his own were furiously working the button and zipper of her shorts, even as he felt her body shake against his in anticipation. 

Sweet Salazar, this girl was hot. He wasn't even inside her and he was the most turned on he'd been in ages. This was a bit insane! But the best kind of insane ever. He'd have to thank Blaise or whoever did this for giving him this opportunity. After he cursed them, of course.

With her pants now opened, the heat that radiated off of her seemed to double and Draco had very little finesse as he shoved her shorts hastily down, with one hand. The other had reached up to pull back her tights and knickers.

“Oh, there you are. Thank Salazar I found yo... oh. All righty then.” 

Draco and Ginny pulled apart with a decisive pop. They each turned to see the source of the voice. But Draco knew without looking, as he has known that voice since he was a child. Blaise Zabini stood there smirking at them and he looked a little too proud of himself.

“Guess my plan wasn't a total failure then.” 

Draco glared at him, reluctantly pulling his hands from Ginny. He ignored her disappointed whimper, as she did the same. Right now he was just a little too pissed off at his friend to properly care. “You did this?”

“Uh, yes. Though to be fair, you were supposed to land on the beach in Hawaii, not in the middle of northern Canada. Must have gotten my coordinates mixed up. Same continent, though, right?” Blaise explained himself, giving his best Charm Smile. It didn't work. 

With Ginny now off his lap and rearranging her clothes, Draco stood up to do the same. The moment the blanket wasn't covering him he felt the biting chill of the air again hitting his bones. He'd forgotten it was so cold.

“And why in the bloody hell were you trying to send us anywhere, Zabini?” Ginny said, her wand raised as she stepped closer to the darker-skinned wizard. Lesser men had cowered in fear at that expression, so of course Blaise did as well. 

“Well Luna and I thought it might be fun to play Cupid...” 

“I'm going to kick your ass,” Draco informed his best mate, just as Ginny's wand came into threatening contact with Blaise's chest. 

Blaise just nodded in understanding, though didn't take his eyes off the wand. “Fair enough, but can you at least kick it at home? It's bloody cold and I'm wearing more clothes than the both of you.”

Ginny met Draco's eye for a moment before nodding in agreement. Being back in warm weather would be nice. He gathered up the burnt Quaffle and blanket before turning back to the pair. Ginny had at least lowered her wand by now, but was still glaring daggers at the older man. Yeah, Blaise was screwed.

“I have another Portkey to bring us home. It'll activate in a minute, so hurry.” 

“Oh and is one this going to take us to Africa?” Draco couldn't help but ask as he put a hand on the crumpled piece of parchment. 

A giggle from Ginny told him that at least someone thought he was funny.

“Luna made this one. She also made the one that got me here. Satisfied?” 

Draco just shrugged and watched as Ginny put her hand on the Portkey, her skin touching his. It felt like an electric shot of heat. Their eyes met over their joined hands and Draco knew, even as the Portkey began to pull them, that this was not over.


End file.
